The Cruel Trick Of Life
by JJBluebell
Summary: The first time I met Harry Osborn I had no idea who he was. No seriously, some stuff was going on, yeah anyway I didn't know OK! But there's a lot I didn't know, I didn't know people like us could be friends, that some trust fund baby could matter so much. He wasn't meant to matter. He's Dying and it matter's, I hate him for that. I fucking hate him... I wish hated him. TASM2 Verse


The first time I met Harry Osborn I had no idea who he was.

No seriously, I mean he looks different in real life… besides tabloids isn't really my thing, then there was the whole me hiding and panicking thing.

Ok, I'm guessing your confused so let me explain, I was at work, like I am every boring fucking day; sorting out the Mail, dropping it off, getting yelled at for some bullshit that doesn't even concern me. So yeah, same shit, different day… then out of the corner off my eye I see the last fucking person anyone ever wants to see; My Ex!

So like a reasonable and mature adult I did the only logical thing a girl could do; I crouched behind the mail cart and scurried away as quick as my bent little legs could take me.

Hey, don't you judge me!

So anyway I ended up rushing through the first door I could see… I stood up straight only to press my back against the fog-effect glass door, letting out a breath I'd dare not breathe before.

"Are you lost?" the voice is both confused and amused it would seem, because when I open my eyes the guy has this cheeky grin on his face and the bluest eyes I've ever seen and kind of an emo fringe thing going on.

It takes me a second to click on that there are stalls and urinals and not to mention a hot guy washing his hands, staring at me. With a twitch of a smile I sigh "wow, um ok honestly? Kind of, I'm avoiding someone and this was the first door in view so…yeah."

"Right…" he looks cocky with this arrogance that kind of makes me want to smack his smug handsome face.

"_Lottie_!" I can hear shouting from down the just down the hall and my blood runs cold as I push myself off the door.

"Fuck! **Fuck**! Um, can you cover me?" the blue eyed hotty looks a little taken back and stands with two hands on his hips in a way that reminds me of the principal from my high school "you can't be serious?"

I can hear the steps getting nearer, not that you could miss them with those big moose feet of his as I beg "Oh but I am, _please_, _please_ and I'll owe you, say one day you need a kidney?"

"What?" he stutters with a laugh as I rush past him and into a stall

"Don't be an asshole! Just get rid of him!" I whisper shout as the ugly grey cubical door closes and a millisecond later the bathroom one opens.

Through the small slit of the stall I can see him from where I'm stood on the toilet. Yes I'm stood on the toilet, Problem?

I inwardly curse at myself because he looks good, slicked back black hair, snake-bites, rippling muscles and those puppy dog brown eyes that lured me in… Bastard.

"Are you lost?" I smile a little at the question that was thrown at me not five minutes ago.

The big idiot is looking around the room like I'd actually be in the men's bathroom. Ok I am but he doesn't know that for sure "I'm looking for a girl; guy said she came in here; blonde, green eyes, stripy pants, Casper-like complexion, about yay high."

I fight the urge to run out there and smack him because 'about yay high' as he puts it is like four foot, I'm _five two _and _Casper_? **Seriously**? I'm not that pale, yeah maybe a milk reference but not transparent!

I hear the shrug of the expensive looking suit from the stranger and if I move to the left slightly I can see the Mr. emo fringe's mockingly smug smirk "sorry man, I think someone's messing with you… why exactly did this girl run away from you?"

"How is that any of your fucking business?" typical Ashley, straight into defense mode.

I roll my eyes at him as I try to remember why I dated the ass in the first place. Then I hear a low chuckle and a smug voice "well for all I know you're a deranged stalker and for that I think security should be involved, don't you agree?"

"What? …Fine, whatever!" I can tell he can see the threat as he backs up with his hands the air, snarl on his face before leaving, you see underneath all the tattoo's and bad boy attitude he's a fucking coward.

Yeah, I'm the one stood on the toilet hiding and he's the coward?

At a girl Lottie.

_At…_

_A…_

_**Fucking**__…_

_Girl._

Anyway just trust me, I know. I've been dating the guy since sophomore year.

I can hear him mumbling under his breath but it fades into nothing as the quick, flippant almost sing-song tone calls "He's gone."

Jumping down and out of the small stall I smile to the boy with a little bounce in my step before hugging him out of shear relief as I babble on "oh thank you, thank you, thank you. You have no idea how much that meant to me, seriously, you are now officially my Hero! Spiderman? Spiderman who! Hey when I take lunch orders on Thursday's I even promise not to spit in your food or anything."

"You spit in the lunch orders? Are you sure you actually work here? You don't look like you work here." he asked with a raised brow, trying not to look to awkward about me hugging him as he eyes me suspiciously.

So yeah my outfit isn't exactly the most formal, black diamanté cowboy boots, what I like to call my 'Beatleguise' pants, a unicorn t-shirt, messy golden curls bringing out my blueishy-green orbs and visible tattoo's that I notice he's staring at… the two crimson ribbon's laced up my wrists to make a pretty bow just under my palm, making it look like they're the only thing holding the long sloping peachy-pale scars together and stopping me from bleeding all over the nice, shiny Oscorp floor.

Clearing my throat I laugh, snapping his attention away from the inked flesh "yeah, the mail room and only the people I don't like… so almost everyone, two spits if their mean to me. Besides not all of us can rock a three piece suit like you can, all that's missing is a hat with a slanted brim and you'd be a totally awesome twenties gangster."

He chuckles behind his hand, a shimmer of something in his eyes before he looks at me again with a nod "touché and thanks, I think. Its Lottie right, that was the name that moron was screaming down the halls?"

Rocking on my heel I bow ever so slightly, if I'd had known who he was it would probably have been funnier to me but still "Lottie McNell, mail provider, gutless coward and awesomeness supervisor, at your survive."

He laughs at my little joke before nodding "right, right… well I have a meeting, don't want to be late on my first day."

"Fuck I hated my first day; it was like high school all over again, only with expensive suits and designer heels instead of pompoms and lettermen's." I smile, opening the door the guy who pretty much just saved my ass from a conversation I so did not want to have.

He smiled at me and I didn't notice the eyes following us as I walked with him back over to my cart, convinced enough time had passed for Ashley to have given up and left "yeah, first days are the worst, trying to find a table to sit at, who your aloud to talk to… and people are never very welcoming, unless their trying to prank you that is."

I shine my pearly whites at him as we reach the brightly decorated cart coated in glitter and stickers "Exactly! What a load of horse shit right? Well anyway this is me, just know that you can talk to me whenever. I know how much of a soul sucker this place can be."

"Yeah and after all you still owe me a Kidney, also an explanation for why I lied my ass off to a guy twice me size." I give a small giggle followed with an eye roll as I lean back onto the mail cart "A tale for another day my friend."

I watch him watch me, those big blue eyes zeroing in on me, looking for something, insincerity, malice, my eyeliner brand; I'm not sure what as he smiles to his own personal secret "well I look forward to hearing it, good day Lottie McNell."

"And good day to you…um, sorry I didn't get your name." I call as he backs away; he's almost half way down the hall before he looks back at me with that shit eating grin "Harry, Harry Osborn."

I watch the smug little bastard walk off with his hands shoved into his pockets and whistling, fucking _whistling_!

_**FUCK**_!

I didn't even bother doing the rest of my rounds, just high-tailed it back to the mailroom and hid there, if the cranky fuckers wanted their mail they knew where it was, besides after that little episode this might be my last day anyway. So yeah, I spent the rest of it sleeping, catching skittles in my mouth and watching crappy daytime TV on the old security camera they never got rid of after the renovation a few years ago.

So the day wasn't a total loss.

I finished work a little after one, when Graham came in to bitch and moan about him taking over for the afternoon (I swear that man could bitch the biggest diva on the planet to death). My walk from the hellhole known as Oscorp was the same as usual; I grabbed a bear claw and milkshake to sit by the peer with my headphones blurring nonsense into my head.

I like coming here, just sitting and watching people go by, no one screaming at me or giving me disapproving glares. Here, I'm invisible, I'm nothing, just comfortably numb and believe it or not it's strangely comforting… for a little while at least, until moments like this; I can't help but smile as I watch a woman rush to her little boy after he'd fallen, not a scratch on the kid but she still fussed over him for a second before laughing, making some joke that brings a smile to the boys lips before she brushes off the dirt and sends him back to his friends with a proud but worried stare.

I think I hate that kid a little.

Actually, no… I hate them both.

"AAH!" I almost jump out of my skin as a hand clamps onto my shoulder.

"Whoa, whoa relax, are you trying to make a scene?" my blood runs cold at the sight of that smirk, his hands in the air and old fashioned sunglasses hiding those baby blues.

I look at the fallen remains of my bear claw and crumble with a fold of my arms "seriously? You don't sneak up on people, who does that? You're lucky I didn't shiv you!"

With a flip of his hair Harry takes my seat on the bench and I notice him look back over his shoulder to some guy with spiky hair and wave as he rushes away on his bike with a quick flash of a smile to the arrogant millionaire "now why would you want to 'shiv' me? Besides it wasn't like it was intentional, I couldn't see your headphones beneath all that hair."

He's looking at me through those dark shades, cool as a cucumber, while I stand hands on hips, pretty riled and frown as I swing my arms around "Because this is New York, people get stabbed and maimed daily and never even make the front page and as for why? Are you serious? Dude… today you made a total ass out of me, are more likely than not to fire me, scared the crap out of me, made me drop one seriously good bear claw and now you're sitting there, in my spot by the way, looking all high and mighty…all that plus I'm pretty sure killing Harry Osborn would make me famous. So yeah!"

He's laughing, he's actually fucking laughing at me and I've decided that murder is not that bad a plan and hey I'd be ok in prison, I'm tough and my genuine dislike for the human race makes it a lot easier to get by. Once he's done with his little giggle fest Harry looks at me over those sheik glasses of his curiously "you really had no idea who I was this morning?"

My eyes roll into the back of my head as my slightly chilly arms cross under my chest "Of course not, I was kind of distracted in case you didn't notice, besides the whole world doesn't revolve around Harry Osborn, you know?"

"Really, because according to every Magazine or Paper I've ever read it really seems to." he stood up mid-sentence with his hands in his pockets, a little head tilt before removing his glasses.

I look into those blue abysses he has the nerve to call eyes and smirk "you see that's where you're going wrong, tabloids only report on the famous and the famous people are actually the most fictional which means they're really not that important at all, besides why would the world revolve around you… when it could revolve around me?"

He looks shocked but bites his lip; I can't tell if he's pissed or amused but either way I don't really care. He however scratched his head as he nods "Right… now I can see what made you so irresistible to your ex, humble and cute."

"Fuck you I'm adorable!" I have my finger out and pointing to his chest as I get snarky at with the billionaire.

"That you are… little Miss Lottie. And kind of a potty mouth too." He's wearing that smug smile again and I can't help but smile with the added touch of a little eye roll.

"Yeah and you're… shorter in person!" ok so I could hit myself for that one as push past him to grab my bag and get the hell out of there, but I turn and take a few short steps Harry calls out to me "Ok, see you tomorrow then."

"Tomorrow?" I look back at him while he fingers at the phone I hadn't noticed was in his hand before now.

"Yeah, Oscorp, big building, picture Stamps… that should do it." he starts walking off then and yeah now I'm more than confused because before I know it I'm shouting back "Wait, so I'm not fired?"

He's walking backwards a black town car pulls up and smiles that arrogant gorgeous smile at me "Nope and who said anything about getting fired? Try not to be late; I hear the boss is a real ball buster."

Before I have a chance to say anything else he's climbed into the car and as it disappears into the traffic I mutter more to myself than anything "what the fuck just happened?"

By the time I got back to my crappy little loft apartment it was already dark, and I'd managed to grab another bear claw before making the train. As the door opens I see a thin lacey something strewn over the lamb beside the sofa and a whistling hum come from the kitchen. With inward groan I walk over to the kitchen sector of the large room, arms folded and leg popped in the bitchiest way you can imagine "What the fuck are you doing in my kitchen?"

The redhead turns around, almost dropping the carton of milk in her hand as she looks at me wide eyed, wearing just a large t-shirt "Wha-who are you?"

"Xander! _Xander_! Get your ass out here you sack of shit!" I scream down the large space and I'm pretty sure the windows shake.

The redhead looks totally freaked out as a ripped guy with sandy blonde hair comes out of the door from across the room trying to fight his way into a pair of blue sweats "Lottie hey, what are you- what time is- this isn't what it looks like?"

"Seriously? That's what you're going with here?" yeah I'm screaming and I can already see the redhead glued to her spot in shock horror as she mutters "Oh my…god! You have a girlfriend?!"

I turn to the girl with a raised brow and shrug "Me, no… I'm his fucking realtor! What do you think? In fact why the fuck are you still here? Get your shit and get out! Get the fuck out of my house!"

"Lottie, come on just let me explain…" as Xander talks he reaches for me but I shove him back, hard, while the girl races around for her stuff.

Out of the corner of my eye I can see the girl hastily getting dressed as I rage "Don't touch me, are you nuts you don't get to touch me after you've fucked some random in our home! How the fuck do you even think that I…"

The door slams shut, Xander leaning over to look past me slightly as I continue to rabble before he nods "She's gone."

"Good, I was starting to give myself a headache. She was cute though." I smile and lean up to share a cheek kiss with the half-naked man before falling onto the sofa and kicking off my boots.

"Yeah she was but then she wanted to make me eggs." He scoffs like it's the craziest thing in the world as he moves to the small chest next to the TV and takes out a few select Menus'.

I laugh at him as I sink into the soft cushions "yeah, because eggs are the devil."

"Nope, just a mark of commitment I'm never allowing to happen. Now choose Italian, Chinese or Mexican?" Xander walks over before taking a seat beside me, holding out the brightly colored menus for me.

I look at them before turning to the hazel eyed boy with a raised brow "are you seriously asking me that?"

"Gino's it is." I smile and lean into his warm bare chest as he looks over the most dog-eared menu from the small batch.

His arm circles my small shoulders as he asks "so how was your day little mouse?"

"Strange, Ashley turned up at Oscorp, I hid in the guy's toilet, met Harry Osborn who got rid of the ass-hat, thought I was going to lose my job but didn't, so yeah, strange." I sigh effortlessly as I twirl the ends of my shirt around my fingers.

"I still say you should have let me beat the crap out of him. What was this Osborn prince like?" he sounds only have interested as he looks over what he wants; my order is a known by heart.

I pull away from him to peel off my pants as I smile, avoiding the Ashley statement altogether "he's kind of a tool."

It's an honest answer because yeah he was a tool, a hot tool, but a tool nonetheless "figures."

Once I've successfully exposed my milky cream legs I lean back to look Xander in the eye before smiling "Yeah, well I've got a date with the tub so you make the order ok?"

"You got it little mouse. And try not to use the whole bottle of bubbles ok? What Cherry shit isn't cheap." He answers without looking at me, but I simply circle my arms around him from behind, making it so we're cheek to cheek as I smile "but Pander bear I needs me those bubbles, plus like you've ever actually paid for that stuff."

"I'll have you know I did, once… for your birthday." We laugh together before I kiss his cheek and make my way to the large welcoming bathroom with a call over my shoulder "and that's why you're my best friend Pander Bear."

It'll be good to wash away the day, it had been long and tiring and a bath was more than needed. The bubbles help me think but sooth it all away, plus they smell awesome.

I think about that scumbag Ashley, how naive I was.

I think about how funny it was to chase out Xander's latest conquest.

What? I'm a terrible person ok!

And I think about Xander, the lovable moron that taught me blood makes you related, but love and loyalty makes you family. Yeah I'm a soppy a bitch, get over it.

Then I think about blue eyes, like staring at the midday sky through crystal and a cocky grin coated in creamy hot sass. So yeah the guy is hot, kind of an ass but still hot… but I don't like him.

Girls like me don't like guys like Harry Osborn.

And they damn sure don't like me.

It just doesn't happen… right?


End file.
